


Lola's Thanksgiving

by fanwit



Category: Looney Tunes | Merrie Melodies
Genre: Animal Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21601318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanwit/pseuds/fanwit
Summary: Lola has to figure out how to prepare for Thanksgiving with Bugs out sick.
Relationships: Bugs Bunny/Lola Bunny
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Lola's Thanksgiving

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea after I watched Mike and Molly and their Thanksgiving episode. There are some similarities, for example someone being sick.

It is one o'clock PM and Lola did not think this through. She nearly trips over a branch but manages to catch herself. She's running in the woods, trying to get back to her burrow before Bugs notices she's gone. The store was out of turkeys so she pretty much has nothing for Thanksgiving.

Lola hops over a fallen log. And stops. There's a hunter. A very familiar hunter. 

"Elmer Fudd!" she shouts and Fudd jolts from his crouch, dropping his rifle. "You! You're hunting, aren't you?" 

Fudd looks up at her wide-eyed. Then picks up his rifle. "Yes, I am. Wabbits, that is, heheheh." And Fudd points the rifle at Lola. No, no, Lola does _not_ have time for this. Lola pushes his rifle upward and puts a finger in Fudd's face.

"No, you are hunting turkeys."

"Tuwkeys?"

"Turkeys! And you better come back to my burrow with one!"

"But—"

Lola steps closer, glaring. "You are. Coming back. With a turkey. Or else."

"I wanted a wabbit..."

Lola grips the barrel. Fudd looks at his rifle then back at Lola. "Tuwkey, you say?"

"By two."

"Yes, ma’am!"

And Fudd goes off like a marathon runner. Well, at least Lola had something covered. Fudd wouldn't dare to come back without a turkey.

Lola hurries back to the burrow, thoughts full of the vegetables there that she would begin preparing. Bugs shouts out for Lola just as she slides down the ladder. Lola turns the oven burner on before hurrying into Bugs' bedroom. Bugs rolls over, eyes bleary, and holds out a hand. Lola steps forward, already reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand. A drink doesn't help Bugs, he still looks terrible. Then he falls into a coughing fit and Lola quickly steps back. She's _not_ getting sick, not if she can help it.

"You feeling any better, sweets?"

Bugs shakes his head and gasps for air. "Wa-ter."

"I'll refill this up but I won't be able to stay here all day, I'm working on dinner."

Bugs nods slowly, one hand on his chest. His ears are twitching madly. Lola hurries into the kitchen and pours water into a pot. She plunks it on the hot burner. It begins boiling instantly and Lola has to step back from the steam. She grabs another cup from the cabinet and fills both cups with lukewarm water. They'll be room temperature by the time Bugs gets to them, it doesn't matter if they're ice cold or not. She enters the bedroom, plops the two cups on the nightstand, pats Bugs on the head and goes back to the kitchen. The kitchen is now full of piping hot steam. God, sometimes she hates cartoon logic.

She squints through the steam. She left the potatoes somewhere on a chair, now only if she could remember which one... And hopefully get them before her face gets boiled off. She begins the search, knocking over two chairs in the process, before finding the potatoes on the table. She dumps the potatoes into the pot then rushes up the ladder.

"Lola!" Daffy jumps back. "You nearly ran me over!"

"Daff!"

"Where's the fire, huh? What's the big idea, trying to kill me?"

"Sorry, Bugs's sick."

"Oh, I sthee," Daffy says, nodding sagely. "I'd already be in Mexico if I were you."

"No, no! I mean, I'm doing all the prep myself!"

"You are?" Daffy blinks. "Oh. Well, that'sth wonderful!" Lola frowns at Daffy. Daffy grins at her, already putting his hands up in surrender. "I wasth about to ask if I could join you for Thanksthgiving."

"Ask? That doesn't sound like you." Lola crosses her arms. "Sure you weren't trying to have rabbit?"

"No, no, I would never! Not to my good old pals, you and Bugsy!"

Then comes a loud gunshot. They duck and look at where the noise came from. A turkey is running wildly at them. Then Fudd comes out of nowhere and tackles it.

"Wowa! Hewp!"

And Lola leaps into action. If that's her turkey, she's not letting it get away.

"Lola! What are you doing?!" Daffy screams. "Wha—"

There's another gunshot and a crack. Fudd drops his rifle. Daffy splutters for words and Lola picks up the turkey.

"Okay, you two are helping me now. Daff, you go down and see if the coast is clear. Fudd, you'll help me with the turkey." Daffy can figure out the steam on his own, she’s not warning him. He’d try to back out if she warned him.

"But... But I'm a vegetawian."

"You don't have to eat it."

"Yes, ma’am." Fudd looks nervously at Daffy. Daffy avoids eye contact and heads down the hole. There's a pause then an "All clear!"

Lola grabs Fudd and pushes him down the hole. Then she follows. Daffy's eyes are watery from the heat that’s thankfully fading and he turns to face Lola.

"Why did you think it wasth a good idea to crank the oven to the hottestht sthetting?!"

Lola drops the turkey and waves her hands hysterically. "I don't know! I'm trying here!"

"I'll take over the potatoesth," Daffy says with a sigh. "At leastht you remembered to peel."

Lola nods and turns to Fudd. "So, how do we take care of the turkey?" 

"You pwuck it." Fudd looks close to tears. "Oh, poow mistew tuw—"

"Right, you're on carrot duty, you just tell me what to do with the turkey." Lola grabs a bag of carrots from the refrigerator and shoves it into Fudd's arms.

"But I'm a hunter."

Lola pulls off Fudd's oversized hat and puts on a chef hat. "You're a chef now. Chop-chop!" Fudd makes himself at home at the counter, wiping down the cutting board, before beginning to cut the carrots. Lola plucks the turkey and it's surprisingly hard. There's a lot of feathers. Daffy's rushing back and forth between the pantry and the oven. Lola isn't sure what he's doing but doesn't want to ask. If she knew, she'd have to tell Bugs and, well, Bugs'd insist on taking care of whatever Daffy was doing but he's too sick at the moment to do anything. Lola looks up from her turkey and at Fudd who already finished the carrots, asparagus, and now starting onto a new vegetable.

"Fudd, what do I do now?"

"Skin."

"What?"

"You have to… Y’know..." Fudd squeezes his eyes shut, face twisted up. He exhales slowly, opens his eyes, and returns to cutting what looks like green beans.

So with Fudd's vague instructions, Lola begins the preparation for the turkey. Daffy's preheated the oven already and all the vegetables have been chopped and diced by Fudd. Who knew being a hunter meant you'd be good with a knife?

The field dressing is the worst part and Lola begins to understand Fudd's decision to be a vegetarian. She's relieved when the next part isn't anything farther into the body but just basting. That isn't too hard. Though it does mean she has to turn her back on Daffy multiple times. And once she turns around to see Daffy with a knife. She grabs his arm quickly and Daffy just sheepishly grins.

"What'sth a little murder among friendsth?"

Lola bans Daffy from knives and tells Fudd he's under strict orders not to give Daffy any knives. And still, she has to keep basting. Apparently, basting is the most important part of the turkey other than deep-frying it but she doesn't have a deep fryer. So too bad for Fudd but they're having an oven-cooked turkey.

Lola shoves the turkey into the oven and turns around with a relieved sigh. "Well, that's it. We're done now."

Fudd and Daffy share glances. Then Daffy opens his beak. "Er, Lola, actually—"

"There's more?!" Lola groans. She’s never going to be done with Thanksgiving.

So Daffy ends up with the duty of running to the store to grab gravy while Fudd's on sauce duty. Daffy initially protests, asking what Lola's duty would be, but balks at the suggestion of helping Bugs instead. So despite the fact Lola thinks it's a bad idea, she leaves Fudd alone in her kitchen and stays with Bugs in the bedroom.

Bugs rasps out a thank-you when Lola holds a glass of water in front of him. He pushes himself up and leans back against the headboard. Then finally grasps the cup. Lola clambers over him and goes under the covers. Her pillow is so soft. Bugs grumbles a little.

"Lols, how's dinner coming along?"

"It's coming."

"It's co—" Then Bugs hacks and gags. When he finally can stop for a breather, he gasps and puts a hand on Lola's head. He strokes slowly, still wheezing. "Lola, don't ever get sick."

"I don't intend to."

"Darling, don't you, I don't want you to go through this."

"We might have some friends over for dinner."

"Like who?" Bugs grabs his cup from the nightstand and takes a long sip. "I thought Grant was out of town. And Tom had plans."

"It's not either of them." Lola sighs. "Honestly, when I say friends..."

"Daffy."

"Bingo."

Bugs closes his eyes and groans. "I was hoping for no headache today."

"Oh, you have a headache?"

"No, Daff's one."

"Ah," Lola says with a nod, "that he is."

A timer beeps loudly. Bugs looks in the direction of the kitchen. Lola snuggles deeper into her pillow. A nap would be so nice...

"Lola?"

"Hmm?"

"Shouldn't you make sure the kitchen isn't burning down?"

"I'm sure it's fine."

"Lola!"

"All right, all right." Lola pushes her way out of the mound of blankets and shuffles into the kitchen. Fudd's stirring something in a pan. The timer's still beeping. "Er, Fudd, what's the timer for?"

"It's fow the pie."

"What pie?"

"The pie in the oven."

"But the turkey's in the oven."

"Yup."

"So we can't get the pie out."

"Nope."

"Are you just going to keep letting the timer beep?"

"Yup."

Lola stares at Fudd. Fudd takes the pan off the burner and moves to the table to check on the rolls. Rolls? Where did those come from? Lola rubs her eyes. Thanksgiving is just too much for her. Next year, she's going to Hawaii, with or without Bugs.

Daffy slides down the ladder, one hand clutching a plastic bag. He spins around to see the two looking at him. "Okay, they were out of gravy stho I improvisthed!"

"Oh, did you bwing eggs, gewatin or cweam?"

"I brought ketchup!"

There's dead silence as Daffy proudly brandishes the single ketchup bottle. Lola buries her face into her hands.

"Alstho, isth anyone going to turn off that timer?"

Four o'clock comes and goes.

Lola cuts the pie in half then halves it again. "Do you think this will be okay? I don't think it's safe to cook anything with meat."

"Nah, it's fine," Daffy reassures Lola. "I haven't died yet."

"It might be a wittwe moist?" Fudd pauses in spraying whipped cream into his mouth. His words are a little muffled but still understandable. "I put some beew in the oven."

"Why?"

"So the tuwkey wouldn’t be dwy."

"Weird."

Fudd doesn't say anything in return. He just goes back to using up all of Lola's whipped cream. Lola ponders the possibility of the pie tasting like beer but decides the pie won't taste good anyway so it's fine.

And five o'clock comes. They set the turkey out and let it stand for thirty minutes before making Fudd carve it. Daffy claps half-heartedly when Bugs comes from death's bed and sits down at the kitchen table. Bugs doesn't say anything when he sees Daffy and Fudd. He just sighs and lies his head down on the table.

Lola sits down at the table, next to Bugs, and gestures angrily for Daffy and Fudd to follow. They quickly do so. Fudd reaches for the turkey but Lola stops him.

"Vegetarian?"

"Onwy sometimes!"

"You can't be sometimes! You have to stick to something!"

"But—" Fudd stops when Lola pushes his hand away. He puts his hands on his lap and straightens up. "I'll have the rowws."

"Now, we'll say our thanks." Lola claps her hands. "That is what we do, right? We do that at Thanksgiving?"

Bugs lifts his head. "I'm grateful for dinner." He brings his head back down. And mutters, "And for this to end."

Lola looks at Daffy expectantly. Daffy fumbles in tying up his napkin around his neck and hurriedly brings it down. "Ah, yesth, I'm, I'm thankful for thisth."

Lola prompts, "What's this?"

"Um... Friendthship?"

And Lola turns to Fudd. Fudd puffs up his chest. "I'm thankfuw for the worwd." Then he grabs the turkey dish and gives himself three slices of turkey.

Lola nods. "For me, I'm thankful for my boyfriend." Bugs makes a noise in return but it might've been a muffled cough. Lola can't really tell. "I'm also thankful for my friends," she gestures at Fudd and Daffy who awkwardly smile in return, "and the food around us."

"Yeth, it'sth very good, can we eat now?"

"Most of all, I'm thankful that we're all gathered here tonight." Lola sighs. "As much as it pains me to admit, you two are tolerable and, well, I wouldn't mind seeing you again." 

Bugs raises his head. "That isn't directed at me, right?"

"No, sweets, it isn't."

"Okay, good. Make sure I get some of that cranberry sauce. That looks good. I'll eat it when I have the appetite." And Bugs returns to slowly dying.

"Can we eat now?" Daffy pounds his knife and fork on the table. "I'm starving!"

"Our first Thanksgiving," Lola says with a little smile. "Sweets, this is our Thanksgiving."

Lola watches Fudd and Daffy pile on their dishes. It's been a long day but now... Looking at everybody enjoy their dish... It might've been worth it. Lola glances over to Bugs who's now poking at his dish, head dipping so low he's practically on his plate. He looks up slowly and smiles at Lola.

"Where's the gravy?" he asks.

Never mind, it wasn't worth it. Lola's going to Hawaii next year, she's definitely booking tickets tomorrow. 


End file.
